


Pain Relief

by OKami_hu



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), I know that's not everybody's thing, M/M, Menstrual Sex, Oral Sex, Other, Vaginal Sex, pregnancy mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 05:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21173894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OKami_hu/pseuds/OKami_hu
Summary: When Crowley's corporation gives him grief, it's best to call for some pain relief - something Aziraphale proves to be very good at.





	Pain Relief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luxuriant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxuriant/gifts).

> Written for the Ineffable Temptations Discord server's Kinktober exchange! And to a degree, to fill a kinkmeme prompt which I've been considering anyway, so when the request came up, I got all giddy ^^ Thanks to the betas [Uran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uran/pseuds/uran) and [Literarion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literarion/pseuds/Literarion)!

The shop phone seldom rang. There were no pointless calls, ever, to sell Aziraphale something he definitely didn't need or to ask his opinion about this or that. Usually it was a dedicated would-be buyer who got politely told off. There was one person who sometimes called though, who was always well-received. 

Aziraphale’s own, personal demon. In more than one way. 

“A. Z. Fell and Co, Mr. Fell speaking,” the angel said, secretly hoping that it was his dear friend (lover) on the other end of the line. 

“Hey, angel.” Aziraphale’s heart leapt. “Say, uh, could you, um, come over, perhaps? Maybe bring something strong?”

Aziraphale’s heart sank, which was unusual; just like the slight strain in the demon’s voice. “Crowley, my dear, are you alright?” 

“Fine.” There was a small pause. “A little under the weather, maybe. Would you mind keeping me company?”

“Of course not! I’ll be over in a jiffy.”

Needless to say Aziraphale was quite worried. Crowley was- sick? But neither of them ever got sick! Hurt, at times, but mortal bacteria and viruses gave them a wide berth. There were few poisons able to affect ethereal - or occult - beings. But there was Holy Water. If very, very diluted, it might cause problems without being lethal but who would do that? Heaven? Hell? Was Crowley in danger?

By the time Aziraphale arrived with a bottle of scotch under his arm, because he didn’t miss the request, he was rather jittery. He let himself in - the normally warded door took to yielding to him as of late - and hurried into the dim flat of the demon. 

“Crowley? Darling, where are you?”

“Bedroom,” the somewhat muffled answer came. Aziraphale hurried down the corridor, absent-mindedly brushing his hand against the verdant greenery and sending a small burst of love toward the plants that Crowley would scold him for later. The door was ajar and the interior was even darker than the rest of the flat; though there was a lovely nightlight on the nightstand. In itself it gave off a meager glow, but by some mundane miracle of technology it painted the entire room with little flecks of light, turning Crowley’s sanctuary into a nebula. Aziraphale couldn’t help but stop and stare in awe for a few seconds; he knew that Crowley used to make stars and it was so fitting that his favorite place resembled a star cluster.

“Hey, angel.” Crowley poked his head out from under the cover and flashed a smile at Aziraphale. At least, that was reassuring. “Sorry to drag you here, but… Uh. I- think I could… benefit from your presence.”

“My darling, of course, if you’re not feeling well, you can call me any time!” the angel fussed and hurried to the bed to sink down on the edge and gently caress Crowley’s hair. “What ails you, love? It’s nothing serious, right? And don’t try to downplay it, if you get worse, I’ll panic.”

“Naah, not gonna get worse. ‘S just pain.” Crowley winced and curled up a little. “Nothing unusual, really, though- it’s been a while it was this uncomfortable.”

“Crowley. Please.” Aziraphale took a deep breath. “You know me. I am currently worrying for your life, so _please_ tell me what’s going on.”

Crowley laughed a little. “I’m fine, promise. 'S just, well-” He raised a brow with a challenging look. “I’m on my cycle.”

Aziraphale’s soft mouth curled into a neat little ‘o’ shape and stayed like that. One could almost hear the gears turning in his head. “Heat cycle…?” he attempted to make sense of the explanation. “Some- snake thing-?”

“Nnnot quite. A little, but not quite.” Crowley sighed. “Put the bottle down - thanks, by the way - take off whatever you don’t need clothing-wise and come to bed. If you’d like to- there’s a robe in the bathroom. Non-miracled. I got it for you earlier. So, y’know. You’ll have something to wear if you come over. Which I wouldn’t mind happening more often.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale relaxed a little. “That is sweet, I’ll go check.” He leaned closer and kissed Crowley’s forehead. “I’ll be with you shortly.”

Crowley smiled, though he tried to hide it in the blanket. Aziraphale’s care and concern always made him feel… special. Loved, cherished and slightly embarrassed, but for some reason, the latter was steadily fading as time went on. Too bad that this wasn’t the right time to properly appreciate the angel and his good qualities. His insides seized up and Crowley groaned in exasperation. Worst of all, he only had himself to blame. His stupid pride and his own stubbornness.

Well. He lived before, he will power through these few days and then… He’ll properly thank Aziraphale. The idea immediately brightened Crowley’s mood a little. 

The angel returned ten minutes later, seemingly wrapped in nothing but the long, almost comically fluffy beige bathrobe Crowley actually spent a considerable amount of time getting. The length was key. 

Aziraphale slipped under the covers and immediately scooted close to Crowley, to wrap his arms around the demon, and Crowley sank into the warm embrace with a small sigh. “That’s better,” he murmured. "A lot better.”

“So, am I getting an explanation?”

Crowley decided to be cheeky. He took Aziraphale’s hand and guided it between his thighs.

Aside the silken fabric of the demon’s pajamas, there was a noticeable absence of certain things. “Oh,” Aziraphale mumbled. “Oh, cycle, I get-” He paused. “That’s… a thing? You do that? And you can’t just make it- painless?”

“I chose not to,” Crowley sighed. “Long, long ago, I made a promise to myself and I’m sticking to it. It doesn’t always happen when I have a vulva, but- there is a certain pattern to it. It’s like, the clock is ticking no matter what equipment I have and if I switch to this at certain times, I get to experience the whole shebang.”

“Mm.” Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley’s stomach and began to rub it in slow circles while pressing a kiss on his neck. “I see. Will you tell me the story? If you want to.”

“I liked her, you know,” Crowley murmured. “Eve. She was pretty and she was brave. I knew there were going to be consequences but- I had no idea how harsh life will be for her. I watched them for a while. I saw her building a home with Adam and I saw her giving birth and I saw her being a woman, bleeding every month and still being strong. I- didn’t mean to make it so hard for her.”

“You didn’t,” Aziraphale soothed, but Crowley shook his head. “It’s because of me, if you trace it back to the root. She got punished because she decided that I was worth listening to. So I decided to take her shape and suffer like she did, like so many women do every day. It’s the least I can do to atone.”

Aziraphale’s lips kept caressing Crowley’s nape. “And that’s why you do nothing against the pain. Oh my dear, my darling, my love. I envy your tenacity. I wouldn’t have been able to do that. You know how much I abhor any sort of discomfort.”

"Yeah," Crowley grinned. "You're soft. Which is a very good thing, I like you soft. And warm."

"Glad to be of service," Aziraphale smiled. "You know… Through the millennia, I've had a few lady friends who shared some interesting tidbits about their lives and practices. I'm fairly sure they've mentioned that an orgasm is an effective remedy against period pain."

Crowley sputtered. "What?? I mean yes, that helps but- oh. Nah, I'm not complaining." 

The angel's caressing hand had moved lower, underneath the silk pants and began rubbing the labia, the middle finger slipping between them to seek out the clit. 

"Aren't you using anything… for the flow?"

"Of course I do, it's just a modern thing. Angel, please." 

Aziraphale obediently miracled up a dollop of lube and proceeded to bring his demon off. He slowed down though when his fingers encountered something unexpected - a little stick in the inside, made out of some rubbery material. It felt like it was connected to something bigger, firmly lodged in the vagina. 

"Ignore that," Crowley instructed, breathless. "Concentrate, angel. I'll explain later." 

Well, whatever it was, it didn't hinder his efforts, so Aziraphale indeed focused on the task at hand.

Crowley didn't restrain his voice, he panted and moaned, thrusting lightly against the angel's hand. They normally engaged on top of the covers, fully exposed, so being under the blanket felt different, so endearingly intimate. Aziraphale's finger circled the swollen clit increasingly faster until the demon tensed up with a deep gasp. He buried his face into the pillow to muffle his loud groan as he shuddered through his orgasm, but Aziraphale knew that he achieved his goal, and it made him feel proud. 

Also, he was rather curious now, but he waited for Crowley to get back his bearings, his warm hand caressing the demon’s hips and sides. 

“Nnnh,” Crowley huffed. “Oh, that was good. Bloody Hell, I needed that, angel… I’m keeping you.”

“For the sole purpose of giving you pleasure, how nice of you,” Aziraphale teased. “And since you’re in need of assistance, I can’t even refuse you. What’s an angel to do? Shall I keep going?” He bumped his hips against Crowley’s rear, and even through the thick robe, the demon could feel that his lover was developing an erection.

“You- You don’t mind-?” Crowley squinted, staring at Aziraphale over his shoulder. “You’re such a neat, clean creature, you know that there’s a mess, right? I mean, more of a mess than usual.”

“Hmmh.” Aziraphale curled his arms around the demon, nuzzling the side of his neck. “There is a bit of a social… unease, regarding periods, but… We’re somewhat outside society, aren’t we? It’s not waste, either. And it’s something that’s part of your body. This beautiful, amazing vessel inhabited by the demon I love.”

Crowley’s ears turned red. “You- Ngk. You and your smart mouth.” He turned and kissed the aforementioned body part. “Well, um- I’ve never said no to an orgasm. Or two. What do you have in that wicked mind of yours?”

“For starters, explain that thing inside you. What’s that?”

“Ah yeah. It’s called a ‘menstrual cup’. ‘S a little silicone thing, shaped like a bell… or a tulip. It goes inside, gathers all the fluid. You can just pour the liquid out and put it back. A really cool invention, I’ve been using it since it was available. Made my life a lot easier.”

“And the stem is there- so you can pull it out easier?”

“Yupp.”

“Can I… see it?” 

"I guess?" The orgasm did lessen the cramps considerably, so standing wasn't an issue. Crowley, with a little reluctance, slipped out of the bed and shimmied out of his pajama bottoms. With the same reluctance, Aziraphale parted from his brand new robe, revealing that he was wearing a pristine white pair of boxer-briefs underneath, something Crowley wholeheartedly appreciated once he caught a glimpse of how the angel's ass looked in them.

Aziraphale kneeled in front of the demon, appreciating him right back, caressing his thighs and placing a few kisses on his mound. "I can't see very well in the dark, would some light agree with you, dear?" 

"You're too polite for your own good, angel," Crowley smiled and snapped; several of the ceiling lights came on, though not with full force. Aziraphale was satisfied though. He parted the labia and gave a few licks to the clit, delighting in his lover's sighs.

"Tell me what to do. I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Crowley assured him. "Find the stem, trace it up to the cup. Pinch the bottom of it and slowly move it around as you pull it out." 

"I promise to clean up any mess, should it occur," Aziraphale mentioned while he began following the instructions. He had to tug on it a little but the cup finally came free. It was black, half full with a dark liquid. "I expected something smaller," the angel said, conjuring up a shot glass to pour the fluid into it so he could observe. "It's darker than blood." 

"It's mostly not blood but uterine lining," Crowley nodded. "It's also not fresh. Go give it to my plants. It's an excellent fertilizer." 

"Really?!" Aziraphale wanted to remark how poetic it was, and how it put Crowley's relationship with his little oasis to a whole new level but he decided to keep it to himself. He hurried out to find the scrawniest looking plant and poured the liquid on its soil. "A gift from your owner," the angel whispered lovingly. "Repay it in kind." 

The plant shivered, leaves arching up a little as Aziraphale traced them. The angel knew what the plants meant for Crowley. Well, yes, he yelled at them alright, but it was like therapy, he projected his insecurities that way, but also cared for them like a good owner because the lushness reminded him of Eden. And he apparently nurtured them with something from his own body, so they could flourish, and Aziraphale was sure that aside the practicality of it, there was a deeper meaning there. Crowley was such a complex, wonderful creature with his indestructible love for things - Aziraphale included. 

It was time to show some gratitude for all that love. Aziraphale walked back to the bedroom, eager to chase away every last trace of pain. Atonement was more about actions than suffering anyway, and Crowley encouraged plenty of changes concerning the betterment of women’s lives through the years, under the guise of sowing chaos and challenging societal norms. 

When Aziraphale returned, Crowley stood at the same spot, idly rubbing his clit. He was still wearing the pajama top and he looked alluring, mostly covered but with his long legs on display. The angel kneeled back down in front of him and resumed the appreciation. He kissed the navel, dipping his tongue into it, then his lips moved down over the flat stomach and the crease of the lean thighs, while his hands traced the long legs and those sharp hips that moved with a suggestive, careless grace. 

Crowley's breathing deepened; the arousal mingled with the lingering pain, still tugging at his insides and commanding some of his attention, but it was definitely easier to manage than the powerful cramps that bothered him for hours before he relented and picked up his phone. He raked his fingers through Aziraphale's curly hair, encouraging him, basking in the divine adoration that emanated from him whenever they were together.

Curiosity eventually got the better of the angel and after a reverent kiss to the pubic bone, two of his fingers slipped inside, encountering warmth and wetness. When he pulled them out, the digits were coated with crimson. Aziraphale marveled at the color, then licked the moisture off with the same focused expression he sampled decadent gourmet treats with. 

Crowley's eyes flashed and his forked tongue flickered out, scenting the air and tasting copper, life and Aziraphale's own unique aroma. "How doess it tasste? Desscribe it like Hemingway." 

Aziraphale smiled - they watched that movie together about a month ago - and closed his eyes. “Like blood, mostly.” He tasted his own a few times - papercuts happened in his line of work - and by accident, other people’s too, on two memorable occasions. “It’s heavy with iron but diluted by something thinner, like seawater. There’s a strong salty aroma.” He glanced up. "Does this excite you?"

"A little," Crowley admitted. 

"Good," Aziraphale nodded. "I do intend to make you excited." Without further ado, he swept his tongue over the wet folds. The foreign taste didn’t bother him the slightest, he went about it like always - with attention to detail and precision. He sucked on Crowley’s clit with the right amount of pressure to make the demon keen and his fingers dwelled inside to rub at the right spot. It didn’t take long for Crowley’s knees to buckle. 

“Damn you,” the demon hissed. “Let me sit down, you bastard, I can’t take it like this!”

“But of course, dear,” Aziraphale beamed, satisfied with his work. As Crowley stumbled back and plopped down, trying to position himself so he hopefully won’t stain the sheets, Aziraphale glanced at his blood-covered hand and in a sudden mischievous fit, dragged his fingers over his left bicep in a gently curving line, painting the Enochian glyph of Crowley’s name over his fair skin. 

Crowley gulped and tugged his shirt up, exposing the left side of his belly. “Do yours.” He took a shuddering breath when the angel’s fingers entered him, looking for more painting material, then he bit his lower lip as Aziraphale added his signature to his body. 

“I ought to do this with my own blood,” the angel mused. 

“Don’t. I mean. Don’t bleed for me. Preferably not.” Crowley took a deep breath. “It’s perfect.”

“Lie back, my love,” Aziraphale advised. “The best is yet to come.”

The clever pun went unnoticed for a while, because Crowley was entirely too focused on the sensations Aziraphale was invoking in him. The simple fact that the angel was willing to engage in this spoke about how much he adored Crowley, and the demon’s heart was doing that funny thing with the off-key beating that definitely wasn’t real but sure felt like it. And the pleasure, oh, it rose and rose like a wave, pushed by each lick, each kiss.

Crowley lifted his hands over his head, gripping the covers tight. He was quickly reduced to a writhing mess; Aziraphale knew how to achieve that, this wasn't the first time that they did this exact thing with this exact genital configuration, but now Crowley also had a suspicion that those _lady friends_ had been lucky enough to enjoy the angel's full attention as well. Aziraphale was so good at this! 

"Oh angel, please… S-suck a little harder, oh shit, yes, angel…!" It didn't take long for the orgasm to crash down and wash away the pain and Crowley's coherent thoughts.

Aziraphale kept on licking around for a while, his tongue soothing, caressing instead of raising pleasure. Crowley loved the gentle aftercare, but once he looked down at his lover, he burst into a fit of giggles. 

"You look like a beast! As if you had ripped someone's throat up with bare teeth!" The angel's lips and chin were smeared with red, his right arm streaked with blood to the elbow.

"I do feel a little savage," Aziraphale agreed with a certain edge in his voice and when he stood, Crowley didn't have to guess why. The fitted underwear was stretched by a hefty erection and the sight stole the demon's breath. 

"Clean up a little," he suggested, his voice trembling. "Then come back and fuck me."

"Those crass manners suit you," Aziraphale winked, and he retreated to the bathroom. 

Crowley pulled his shirt up and marveled at the blood marking him. Deep inside, he loved to belong to the angel because being his was so safe - Aziraphale never sought to hurt or demean others, instead he was protective and considerate. Also, surprisingly good in bed. 

Crowley tugged the black silk over his head and stretched languidly. The pain was gone, but orgasms were a medicine one had to try real hard to overdose on. One more definitely won’t hurt and besides… Aziraphale really deserved one, too. Crowley’s hand crept to his abdomen and rested there. The angel chose to make a sizable Effort most of the time; in the right conditions, Crowley was able to feel it moving inside him under his hand and he _loved_ it.

Aziraphale exited the bathroom, clean and completely naked. He smiled at his lover and settled down on the bed, leaning down to kiss the hand, then as it withdrew, the flat stomach. Then the navel, then his lips briefly touched the blood-mark and finally returned to the middle. 

“Dear,” Aziraphale murmured against Crowley’s skin. “Something occurred to me- it might be silly, don’t laugh, but-” He straightened, placing his hand where his lips had been. Crowley’s insides shivered with want in response. 

“Have you ever been pregnant-?”

Crowley blinked. “Actually- yeah. Three- four times.” 

“Ah.” Aziraphale slipped off the bed, to kneel between the demon’s legs and resumed kissing his taut belly, inside which, an instrument of creation rested, something worthy of worship. Crowley glanced away as he answered, but before his bright eyes flicked to the side, Aziraphale caught something raw in them, something that clearly pleaded that he doesn’t push the issue. The angel knew better than to pry. Whenever Crowley was ready, he was going to listen.

“How would you like me, love?”

“From behind,” Crowley said eagerly. “I want you to grab my hips and pound me, as rough and as fast as you can - without spoiling your own fun. ‘Cause I want you to have a lot.” 

“Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I’ll be enjoying myself to the fullest.” Nothing about him betrayed the strength Aziraphale possessed, but he easily flipped Crowley on his stomach; and by the time the demon’s knees hit the ground there was a cushion underneath them, because the floor was rather unforgiving. 

Crowley fetched himself a pillow to hold on to and waited with bated breath. Soon enough, he felt a nudge against his opening and Aziraphale wasted no time to slide in to the hilt with a single smooth thrust.

“Oh shit!” Crowley exclaimed, clutching the pillow tight. “Oh fuck, you’re so big, angel, I love your cock…!”

Aziraphale chuckled and leaned a little forward, to push in even deeper, knowing exactly how Crowley loved it. “Anything for you, my dear. Is this big enough, or should I adjust a little? You like to be full, I know.”

“Ngk.” Crowley pulled his head between his shoulders, his ears red. Okay, he was a bit of a size queen, yeah, no need to rub it in. “‘S fine. Perfect. Just move. Wreck me, angel.”

With a breathless laugh Aziraphale pulled out, only to slide back slowly one, two, three times, then the fourth thrust was a rough shove that rocked Crowley forward, making him groan from pleasure. The angel set a leisurely pace, but he slid in deep. He took a firm hold on the demon's bony hips, pulling him closer to meet every thrust.

Crowley soon sank into a light daze, lulled by the constant ebb and flow of pleasure; whenever he got close to the edge, Aziraphale slowed down or stopped without fail, to caress or kiss his demon's back that remained dry, no matter what sort of extortion he was experiencing - sweating was a thing that happened to mortals, not them.

It was nice for a while but eventually, Crowley grew frustrated. "Angel, I don't want to hurry you but I'm getting desperate here-" 

"Ah, my sweet darling," Aziraphale teased. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't dally. Do you want me to be-" He shoved his hips forward with force. "Rougher?"

"Fff- yes!" Crowley gasped. He glanced back over his shoulder with a grin. "Like, I don't mind if you keep going, just bring me off, and- l want you to come inside me." His eyes narrowed and his grin broadened. "Creampie me, angel!"

There was a sharp gasp. “Oh you wily old snake, you know that I can’t resist anything even remotely food-related…!”

Crowley laughed, though his voice stuttered from the forceful stabs. Aziraphale was done playing; his thrusts were almost brutal, each of them punctuated with a small grunt, and his fingers all but bruised the demon’s hips. Crowley wasn’t protesting whatsoever; at times he was quite alright with going slow and tender, but other times he did like it rough.

His moans were partially muffled by the pillow but it didn’t take long for the pleasure to rise and Crowley threw his head back in ecstasy; and once the angel’s fingers found his clit, it only took a couple of deep stabs and he was coming, crying Aziraphale’s name. 

Seven seconds and seven thrusts later, the angel followed suit, raining praise and blessings on Crowley with such enthusiasm it almost burned. 

Crowley rode out the aftershocks with a huge, drunken smile plastered on his face, and he was glad Aziraphale couldn’t see it. The angel didn’t pull out; he leaned against his lover, trying not to crush him but wanting to snuggle closer at the same time. Somehow, he managed. 

Finally, he planted a kiss between Crowley’s shoulder blades. “Are you alright, my dear boy?”

“Yeah,” the demon nodded. “Tickety-boo.”

Aziraphale chuckled, slipping his hand to Crowley’s belly and casessing it slowly. “Are you nice and full?”

“Filled to the brim,” Crowley agreed, smoothing his own hand over the angel’s, lacing their fingers. “It’s so warm.”

“What about the pain?”

“All gone! I have to give you credit, angel, you’ve outdone yourself. Now… Don’t you want to admire your handiwork?”

Aziraphale considered this and yielded. There was something alluring about seeing his own essence splattered on a lover’s skin or knowing it to be inside them, even if it never amounted to anything. He pulled out, noting the glistening mess coating his penis then watched with a distinct satisfaction as it dribbled out of Crowley’s slit; mostly pink with swirls of pearly white and streaks of scarlet.

“Like a nice raspberry cream pie, indeed,” Aziraphale mused. “Looks good enough to eat.”

Crowley laughed and rose to his feet, stopping for a few moments to enjoy the feel of the cum dripping out of him. “How about this: I’ll go have a nice hot shower, you clean up and think of what you’d like to eat that I can order to be delivered. We’ll sample the booze you brought until the food gets here, then we can watch a movie, or cuddle, or both and- you’ll stay for the night.”

“That’s a marvelous plan,” Aziraphale nodded. “Though, would you mind if I joined you in the shower?”

“Not at all.” Crowley crouched and gave his angel a deep, loving kiss. “Thanks for helping out. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the best kind of painkiller.” He tipped his head to the side. “I might take another dose the next time I’ll need it.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’ll be always there if you need any sort of pain relief, my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> The movie they refer to is of course 'City of Angels'. Also, this is a totally unpaid advertisement for menstrual cups, the next best thing after sliced bread IMO. Do yourself a favor and get one, shall you need it. 
> 
> There's an accompanying image on my [twitter account](https://twitter.com/emeraldscholar1), tagged with #IneffableKinktober2019!


End file.
